“Savik, nice to see you again. Hope Elisia is not right behind you this time.” Jeremy approached the bars, shaking the guard’s hand.

  The young guard did not recoil, shaking the otherworlder’s hand eagerly.

  “No, no, the other guards are oblivious to the fact I’m here.”

  Savik’s eyes shifted towards Perriman’s cell for a second, disgust flashing across his face. Jeremy was not surprised by this; the duke was a traitor to the crown and kingdom after all. The soldier was certain that they would be getting such hate-filled stares from Savik also, were it not for his overwhelming fascination that he had for them.

  “So you’ve come here just to say thanks? Pretty risky if you ask me.” Clyde chimed in, now approaching the bars as well.

  “No. A simple thanks would not be enough to cover what I owe you.” The young guard replied, letting go of Jeremy’s hand and focusing on the towering behemoth of a man who approached.“I’ve come to tell you that you will be sent to the Vatur kingdom tomorrow, at first light. The Queen does not wish to make a spectacle of it, so it will be done before most townsfolk even wake up.”

  The three otherwolders exchanged looks and nods before Jeremy turned his attention back to Savik.

  “Is that all?”

  “No, uh…” The guard paused as if trying to remember what else was there to tell them. He snapped his fingers and smiled.

  “Ah, yes. The group escorting you will be overseen by the Second of the Queen’s Guards, Lady Elisia. She will personally make sure you reach the Vatur kingdom without incident. Now, erm, this is just what I’ve overheard from the guard captain, it is not definitive.”

  “Do you know how many guards will accompany us?” Marcel asked from the back of the cell.

  “No, no I don’t. All I know is it will be a small party, small enough to draw no attention from townsfolk or bandits that plunder roads this time of year.”

  “I see.” Jeremy sucked his teeth while nodding, before pointing over his shoulder with his thumb.

  “What about him?”

  Savik looked over Jeremy’s shoulder towards Albrecht’s cell, his smile disappearing and a look of contempt taking its place. His voice was laced with a tone of cruel satisfaction as he told the otherworlder what fate awaited the duke.

  “He will be beheaded tomorrow at noon, right in the middle of the town square. In his case, the Queen wants a spectacle.”

  The duke just sat on the floor of his cell, not even bothering to look at the guard. Clyde approached the bars that divided the cells and squatted down, asking Perriman for the translator stone that they had given him a few days ago so they could communicate. With a sigh, Albrecht forfeited the translucent gem back to the Warhound.

  “We’ve held on to this for you, Savik,” Clyde said as he stood up and walked over to the front of the cell where the guard stood.

  “You dropped it back when we were horsing around.”

  “The translator stone. Oh, thank the Gods, I was going insane with worry that Lady Elisia might have found it.” Savik smiled, exhaling in evident relief.

  Clyde held the stone in his left palm, motioning with his head for the young guard to reach out and take it. Silently, almost unnoticeably, Jeremy took a few steps back from the bars at the front of the cell. Savik smiled, reaching through the bars for the stone. Clyde also reached out, only he was much faster. The Warhound moved with speed and precision terrifying for a man his size, his right arm extending through the bars, grabbing Savik by the back of his head when he got close enough. The young guard’s smile immediately disappeared when he felt the grip of the behemoth on the back of his head.

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  “What ar-“ Savik’s words never formed a full sentence as his entire body was moved effortlessly forward, his face colliding with the bars. Clyde’s other hand grabbed the bar that Savik’s head had struck at the exact same time, squeezing tightly to absorb the vibrations and dampen the noise of the impact.

  “Mak lae der?” Perriman asked, watching with wide eyes as the guard crumpled to the floor.

  The Warhound tossed the translator stone to his right, through the bars, and Perriman caught it between his palms before repeating the question.

  “Is he dead?”

  “No, just unconscious,” Clyde replied, looking down at the body on the floor before grabbing it and dragging it as close to the bars as possible so Jeremy could search it.

  Jeremy quickly frisked the unconscious guard, pulling out a single key from one of the pockets and immediately trying to open the cell door, despite the key looking too small for the bulky lock. As expected, it did not work.

  “The key’s a bust. It must just be for the prison entrance and not the cells as well. Back to plan A. Bend ‘em.”

  In the duke’s eyes, Clyde, Jeremy and Marcel seemed like entirely different people now. No banter, no unnecessary words or explanations. All three of them moved to execute a plan that Perriman wasn’t even fully aware had been set in motion the second Savik opened the prison door. Marcel was walking along the side of the cell, looking and tugging the bars that divided them from Perriman. The shortest soldier of the three suddenly stopped in front of one of the bars and looked at it up and down, before calling to his comrades.

  “This one.”

  Without a word Clyde walked over and gripped the bar that Marcel had pointed at, straining against it with force. Albrecht could see, even in the dark of the dungeon, how the man’s muscles flexed in effort against the steel. And in this battle, the steel gave way. The bar began to bend to the right until it created enough space for someone to squeeze through. Clyde let go of the bar, looking down at Albrecht as if expecting something of the man, but the duke still hasn’t pieced together that this was his prison escape.

  “Move your ass, Perriman.” The large soldier said, snapping the duke from his daze.

  Perriman got off the damp floor and moved to the bars, squeezing through them with some effort. Now in the cell with the otherworlders, he was tossed Savik’s uniform that Jeremy took off the unconscious guard.

  “Put it on.”

  With trembling hands, the duke put on the uniform, disregarding the uncomfortable feeling of clean clothes on his skin that was covered in grime. The uniform was a tight fight, Perriman could feel it cutting into his thighs and under his arms, restricting his movements somewhat, but that didn’t matter as the night should bolster his disguise, so long he kept to the shadows.

  “This one,” Marcel said, pointing at one of the bars next to the door of their cell.

  Clyde immediately walked over to it and began to bend it. Albrecht opened his mouth to say something but Jeremy interrupted him by placing a hand on his shoulder.

  “You know what we’re asking you to do.” Said the soldier.

  “I do,” Perriman replied, his voice trembling slightly.

  “Hold on to that translator stone so our people can understand you. If you lose it, just yell our names, that should be enough for them not to drop you immediately.” Jeremy continued, taking the stone from the duke’s hand and placing it inside the pocket of the uniform.

  “We trust you’re smart enough to get out of this city without getting recaptured or killed. Once you’re out, head straight to the outpost. Tell them what Savik told us.” Clyde added, stepping away from the front of the cell, presenting the duke with another opening to squeeze through.

  “We won’t lie to you man, you’re our trump card here. Do not fail us, so we can stick it to the elves.” Marcel patted the duke on the back with a smile, ushering him through the hole in the bars.

  Perriman looked at the three of them as he stood on the other side of the cell, next to Savik’s limp body. The duke’s life was turned upside down ever since he met the otherworlders, but he only had himself to blame for that. His actions caused innumerable deaths and grief, things that would require more than a single life to atone for. Albrecht nodded, a silent agreement between him and the soldiers before he quickly left the basement.

  The otherworlders stood in silence as the heavy doors slowly closed behind Perriman before Jeremy looked down at Savik.

  “Sure, he ain’t dead?”

  Clyde shrugged.

  “I think so. Wasn’t my goal to kill the kid.”